Pressure
by porcelaine-peony
Summary: 1856 – The Second Opium War starts.


**Title:** Pressure  
><strong>Characters:<strong> England, China  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> 1856 – The Second Opium War starts.

**Notes:** I am playing with Anglo-Chinese history at the moment. I have a ton of chapters outlined and many of them are half-written (with a ton of footnotes, for history derps like myself), but I am lazy and will probably never get around to writing out the _entire_ story I have planned. So, have a random chapter. If people want more ficlets like this, I will go ahead and type out the rest, but idk… you all let me know if you are interested, okay?

Maybe I will type them up in order, too...

Un-edited. Please correct me if you find a mistake. Reviews are lovely.

x

"China!"

The loud, angry voice reverberated through the entire building. Soldiers yelled. They screamed a multitude of words in Chinese, words England could not entirely understand, but England did not need to know Chinese to understand anger and disgust.

A hand gripped England's upper arm.

No one touched the Empire and got away with it.

England's fingers were suddenly around the offending mandarin's neck, green eyes stabbing daggers, a livid gaze promising pain and death. "If you do not tell me where China is, I will cut off your tongue and keep it as a souvenir."

But the words fell on deaf ears. The mandarin did not understand English. Frustrated, England tried again, "Where is _China_? _Zhong Guo_?"

A shaky hand pointed to a room down the hall. The other mandarins angrily spewed out more words of annoyance and irritation. England let the man go, fixed his tie, and calmly proceeded to the room. He opened the door and slipped inside, making sure no one followed behind him.

He winced, the smoke almost, _almost_, making his eyes water. "China!" He called again, coughing a little when he realized _what_ he was inhaling. The stench was all too familiar, and his stomach tightened in response. _Guilt_? "God damn it, China, where are—"

"Who is yelling?" The soothing voice came out of nowhere, and suddenly, China was standing a few metres in front of England, red and gold silk and long, dark hair in disarray.

China paused, eyeing the other nation as if he did not recognize him. England could not help but notice the dullness in China's gaze. His golden eyes seemed unfocused, as if they were looking _past_ him, not _at_ him. China blinked, slowly, letting his gaze travel down and then back up England's body. England shivered.

"Aa, England. What do you want _now_?"

So China _did_ remember.

"Tell your Emperor to call off this ridiculous seizure. The men Ye Mingchen captured are under British protection and are not to be held without British consent."

China stared at him, his back straight, proud, "I do not know what you are talking about, England."

"Oh please, surely you've heard about it by now."

But China had _not_ heard. He had interred himself in his home, far from the riots and the violence, the opium and the God-worshippers. He took a step forward, masses of gold and red silk dancing around his slim body. "My men must have had good reason to arrest the crew. Leave, I won't help you."

"No." England's voice was firm and clear. "They are clearly ignoring the Treaty of Nan—"

China's stern voice broke England's tirade before it even had a chance to begin. "_Leave_."

"There's no talking to you. No cooperation." England always had to resort to violence. To trickery. He never wanted to hurt China; didn't the other nation know that? China had to know how much he… England narrowed his eyes, "If your men violate the treaty, China, I will—"

"What will you do, Arthur?"

England's heart skipped a beat as his name rolled off China's tongue.

"You'll start another war? You'll kill more of my men?" China turned around. There was no way he would stand around and take more abuse from England. Wasn't a civil war enough? Hadn't his people endured enough violence? And to have a foreigner come into _his_ home and _demand_ him to intervene in something he clearly had no word in, that was—

The fingers around China's upper-arm came as a surprise. He barely had time to turn around. China's body was suddenly pressed against England's. China's mouth opened, a fiery protest ready to strike.

Their lips melted together, and England could taste the opium laced with jasmine staining China's tongue. England's stomach _churned_, but the soft moan against his lips allowed him to forget the injustices. China's lips and hands were, all at once, desperate, disgusted, welcoming, hateful, and it made England's blood _boil._

England felt a firm hand on his chest. A shove and a second later England's cheek swelled, red from a harsh slap. China's eyes, for the first time that day, sparked with rage. He glared at England, his cheeks tainted pink.

"You and all your people are barbarians!"

"_My_ people?" England laughed a little, taking a step forward, "Don't make me laugh, China." Another step forward, and this time China took a step back, glaring, almost killing with that gaze. Had those eyes always looked at him with such disgust?

"China, if your men don't return the crew, my men will resort to violence."

China laughed. Was that supposed to surprise him? Make him beg for forgiveness?

"Yao, I'm trying to help you."

"Since when is war 'helping' me?" China's voice shook, but England couldn't tell if it was from opium, from anger, or from _pain_. _China is in _pain_. _The thought was a mere echo in the back of the Empire's mind, an echo he had sought to get rid of, but could never fully tear out of his nightmares.

England reached out and grabbed China's wrists, pulling the shouting nation forward and against his chest. China, however, refused to be touched. He tried to pull back, to pull away from the source of his hurt, his anguish…

He tried to pull away from his addiction.

China closed his eyes, his back straight and proud despite the drugs and humiliation that coursed through his veins. England brushed his fingers through China's hair, pulling him closer. They stood in the middle of the room, England's arms wrapped around China's waist possessively, and China's forehead resting against England's shoulder.

"How is he?"

Ah, England should have known better. China would never allow such filthy hands to touch him without purpose.

"Hong Kong is well."

A small smile flickered on China's lips. England's chest _burned_. They could come to a compromise. England believed there was a way to avoid another war.

"China," he began, murmuring against China's temple, his voice low, "The crew—"

"England," China whispered, fingers wrapping around England's tie. He firmly pulled the cloth until England's lips were against his own. China smirked, "I'm ready to fight you." He pressed a chaste kiss against England's mouth before departing the Empire's arms. His eyes, the same eyes that moments ago barely caught the light, were now ablaze. The frightening smirk painted on China's lips might have scared England, but the Empire knew no one could defeat him. He had nothing to fear.

"If your men aren't careful, they will lose their heads," China finished, sauntering to the back of the room, his golden gaze meeting —_challenging?_—England's green eyes.

No, China and England would never compromise. England scoffed, and a smirk of his own appeared on his face, "Will they now?"

x

* On October 8, 1856, the _Arrow,_ a hybrid vessel with a British hull and Chinese junk's sails, registered in Hong Kong as a British vessel. A Chinese merchant owned the vessel and a Chinese crew operated the ship. It carried only rice. Twenty-one year old Thomas Kennedy was the captain. His presence granted the ship privileges that, according to the Treaty of Nanking, should be granted to only British ships.

Kennedy was not on the vessel when officials from the Imperial ships boarded the _Arrow_ and arrested the crew. Kennedy was able to talk the Chinese into letting go of two of the crew members. He reported the seizure to Harry Parkes, a British Consul. Parkes, angered by the seizure, demanded all of the crew be returned.

The _Arrow_, built by the Chinese, had been captured by pirates and then recaptured by Canton's Viceroy Ye Mingchen. He sold it in an auction to a British firm. Despite being registered as a British ship, it was technically not a British ship. Furthermore, a few of the crewmembers had connections to pirates. The registration of the _Arrow_, by the way, had expired on September 27. The Chinese had not violated anything by seizing the crew.

This incident ignited the Second Opium War. On October 23, Parkes, angered by the Chinese and their refusal to cooperate, ordered the seizure and destruction of the four Barrier Forts five miles south of Canton. During this bombardment, five Chinese defenders were killed—they were the first deaths in the Second Opium War.

* Random information is random—a Chinese mandarin slapped Parkes during a heated discussion. Parkes was quite angry and persistent in his demands, which earned him a slap.

* Ye placed a bounty on foreigners. Even heads came with a bounty. On December 29, eleven European passengers aboard the _Thistle_ were decapitated. No one is sure if Ye ordered the assault.

* The God-worshippers = the Taiping Rebellion participants. China was going through a civil war when the Second Opium War broke out.


End file.
